Catch
by xErised
Summary: Draco's playing a game of hide-and-seek, but Harry isn't sure about the rules. Complete. HP/DM
1. Catching

* * *

It had started out unobtrusively. Harry thought that he had seen a tell-tale blond head around him occasionally, but he put it at the back of his mind. Hermione and Ron didn't notice anything out of the ordinary, so he kept his observations to himself.

However, by the second week, he noticed that Malfoy continued to pop up at unexpected timings and places around him. He would be there, sitting alone at the stands at the Quidditch pitch whenever the Gryffindor team was training, and Harry could feel the boy's eyes surveying him. Likewise, when he was studying with Hermione at the library, he could almost always spot Malfoy at least three tables away, studying alone. Harry wondered why Malfoy was always alone nowadays, with no fawning Pansy or his two henchmen flanking him at both sides. He shook his head, writing it off as coincidence, but it continued niggling away persistently at him.

By the middle of the third week, Harry was extremely irritated and exasperated. By now, Ron and Hermione had already noticed the presence of Malfoy looming around them.

"And how long have you seen him around, Harry?"

"It's already been two weeks, I think…"

"Harry, just ignore the slimy git. He'll go away soon. If not, I'll be happy to take care of him," Ron had grinned maliciously, earning a disapproving glance from Hermione.

But by Friday that same week, when the trio stepped out of their portrait hole of the Gryffindor common room, Harry noticed a tall blond boy wearing Slytherin robes. Fuming to himself, he stormed straight over to the boy and grabbed the collar of his robes roughly, pinning him to the wall.

"What'd you think you're doing, Malfoy, _oh_!" Harry stopped in mid-sentence as he realized the snarling and thrashing boy wasn't Malfoy at all, but a blond stranger in Slytherin.

"Finally lost your marbles, have you, Potter?!" the boy spat in derision, pushing Harry away and hurrying off in the opposite direction.

"Bloody hell, Harry, you're really hung up over this stalking thing, aren't you?!" Ron had exclaimed, his eyes wide with surprise as Harry, seething with anger, had kicked the wall venomously.

When the fourth week had started anew, Draco Malfoy had taken things to a new height. Meals were no longer taken in peace in the Great Hall; Harry could feel Malfoy's eyes boring into the back of his skull like a hot iron. He tried a few times to turn around and stare back at Malfoy, but it was humanely impossible to win the glaring contest when pitted against Malfoy, who didn't need to seem to blink for more than three minutes. Because of that, Harry always ate at an extremely fast pace to flee from those unblinking grey eyes.

Hermione also picked up on another thing; during mealtimes, the rest of the Slytherins were sitting rather far from Malfoy and completely not talking to him. Outside of mealtimes, Malfoy's flunkies were no longer with him, and additionally, during combined Gryffindor and Slytherin classes, no one approached Malfoy to pair up with him except for an unusually hesitant Pansy. Hermione brought this up to Harry and Ron, but every time they tried to figure out this curious turn of events, each answer that they came up with became more and more preposterous.

Whenever they were walking from class to class, Harry could spy Malfoy's head of blond, almost-white hair bobbing in the thronging crowd of students. He would try to turn around and stop in his tracks to reach Draco, but at a blink of an eye, Draco had disappeared as suddenly as he had appeared. It was much worse during combined classes like Care of Magical Creatures and Potions. Whenever the three Gryffindors took their seats, Draco would always sit right behind Harry, and Harry could feel the sneaky Slytherin staring steadfastly at the back of his neck.

He always felt uncomfortable and nervous_ like Malfoy was mentally undressing him_- Harry blinked as that unexpected, stray thought popped randomly in his head. He visibly flinched, turned back and threw an extremely dirty look at Draco, expecting Draco to sneer back at him.

Surprisingly, Draco didn't. Instead, he crossed his legs, leaning back steadily on the two back legs of his chair. Locking eyes with Harry, a haughty smirk graced his lips, curving them upwards. Noticing Harry's flustered face, Draco could only flash him a supercilious grin, his grey eyes dancing flirtatiously and mischievously, like the victorious cat that got the cream.

Harry always got so un-nerved by this, that one time during Potions, he had ended up tearing a page out of his Potions book in agitation. Snape immediately appeared in front of him, an oily smile on his sallow features.

"_Ten points from Gryffindor, Potter_. If _only _you knew how to treat your possessions the way they should be treated."

On top of all these distractions and irritations, which were already bad enough, Malfoy had taken to appearing randomly outside the Gryffindor portrait hole. There was unfortunately no discernable pattern that Hermione could figure out, if not Harry would have whipped his wand out in a split second and hexed Malfoy to bits. Besides, Malfoy seemed like a mirage; if Harry thought that he had seen the blond, before Harry could confront him, Malfoy would have vanished within seconds, the only evidence that he was there in the first place was the very end of his robes slipping away after the blond whenever Malfoy turned sharply to another corridor.

It was driving Harry insane. It kept him up at night, his fingers tightening around his blankets. His mind raced over every possibility as to why Malfoy was doing this. He grew jumpy and skitterish, thinking that Malfoy was hiding behind every pillar, ready to pounce _that's what you want, don't you Harry? Him pouncing on you, marking and claiming you as his own_- on Harry. With every passing day, he couldn't eat under Malfoy's searing gaze, nor could he concentrate during classes; his brain was so pre-occupied devising ways to capture Malfoy and question him to no end.

To Harry, Draco Malfoy was like a tattoo that he couldn't scratch off no matter how hard he tried. He felt his defenses crumbling from within, and he felt himself give in utterly and completely to the obsession of _nothing but Malfoy_- Draco Malfoy. He was sick and tired of this game of catch-me-if-you-can and charades. He was weary of overanalyzing and picking apart every flick of the head, every raised eyebrow, every smirk which seemed to mean a thousand different meanings, and the way his cock would give an indecent little jump every single time Malfoy locked eyes with him and traced the outline of his own lips alluringly _tell me why the dark side catches my eye_- with his long, slender, aristocratic finger.

Malfoy didn't even evade him when Harry was asleep. His dreams revolved maniacally around Malfoy. Malfoy staring, Malfoy smirking, Malfoy hissing, Malfoy grabbing, Malfoy groping, Malfoy touching, Malfoy licking-

Harry had woken up with a start when he dreamt that Malfoy was pinning a writhing Harry _watching me all night long_- to the bed, his warm, wet tongue teasing Harry's neck.

That night Harry forced himself to stay awake, not daring to go back to sleep.

* * *

It was on a Saturday afternoon when the trio could finally sit down properly and discuss about Malfoy's weird behavior. There was no way they could do it in the Gryffindor common room as it was way too crowded, so the three of them settled down at the courtyard.

The sun shone brightly down at them, the light glittering on the blades of the emerald green grass like tiny topazes. Harry leant back heavily on the rough hewn bark of a huge tree, crossing his ankles. Hermione and Ron sat themselves gingerly near him.

It was Hermione who first broke the silence hesitantly.

"It's been going on for a month already, hasn't it?"

"Yeah."

"And he's just been following you, not doing anything violent or striking up conversation with you?"

"_Just_ been following me?! You know how he drives me crazy with his shadowing!" Harry hissed pressingly.

"Oh come on, even I can do all that fancy-shmancy vanishing out of sight thing!" Ron said off-handedly, wiggling his fingers in a mystical way.

"Of _course_ you could, Ronald, it's just a _pity_ that you have the subtlety of a sledgehammer to the head," Hermione retorted coldly. Turning to Harry, she ignored Ron's indignant splutters and took a deep breath, as though she knew that she was going to say something that Harry would not like.

"Harry, I think that Malfoy fancies you."

"Blimey, Hermione! The books getting to you, much?!" Ron exclaimed, as he crossed his arms bad-naturedly, still not happy over Hermione's snub.

"It all fits! Don't you two see it?! That's the reason why the rest of the Slytherins are avoiding him! That's because Malfoy told them that he likes you, Harry! And haven't you noticed how Malfoy no longer picks on the three of us?"

"Well, that's because his cronies are not with him anymore! He wouldn't dare pick a fight with us! And besides, I don't see Malfoy around us now! Maybe he's stopped and everything, probably gotten bored, that insufferable git."

As if on cue, Draco strode out into the courtyard, a thick heavy leather-bound book tucked under his arm.

Ron winced.

The three Gryffindors watched as Draco scanned the crowd around him calmly, before registering the three of them. Quirking up an eyebrow in a parody of politeness at them, he sat down on a bench directly in front of them, a perfect vantage point for the blond to look at Harry. Sliding a finger underneath a dog-eared page, he flipped open the book in a smooth and fluid motion and began to read.

Harry stared at Draco. He was wearing a loose, thin, white collared shirt that was untucked; the tails of the shirt hung rumpled at his sides. The sleeves were folded neatly up to his elbows, displaying his long, thin and pale forearms and slim, feminine wrists. Slung haphazardly over the collar was a Slytherin tie that was knotted messily. His lanky legs were encased in a pair of tight black pants that showed off his sinewy muscles. In the background, Harry could hear Ron and Hermione bickering.

It was the first time that Harry had seen Draco so messily and casually attired, _he looks so damn good_- Harry blinked and tried to squash that stray thought. To his horror, he saw in his mind's eye the handful of dreams he tried so desperately to brush away bubble wildly up to the surface.

Malfoy kissing, Malfoy biting, Malfoy licking, Malfoy sucking-

A few strands of white-blond hair fell to Draco's face, and Harry gulped as Draco swiftly hooked the silvery strands behind his ear, never taking his eyes off the page. Harry saw the way the sunlight reflected on Draco's hair, and the silvery strands sparkling with-

"Bloody _hell_, Harry, are you _drooling_ at Malfoy?!" Ron said in a horrified voice, pointing to Harry's parted lips.

"No! I'm not-" Harry broke off quickly, rubbing urgently at his chin with the back of his hand. He froze however, when he felt something moist land on his hand. He blinked hopelessly _doing silly things when it comes to you_- at Ron and Hermione, who were both wearing looks of surprise and worry on their faces. There was a stunned silence, and Hermione hurried on before Ron could burst out saying anything else.

"Think about it, Harry. If Malfoy was a girl and if he was following you around surreptitiously like what he's been doing, wouldn't the first answer come to you that he's interested in you? And besides, I saw him fold the dove during Defense against the Dark Arts when we were in year three." Hermione threw her hands up in exasperation when she caught sight of Harry and Ron's blank faces.

"The class that was supposed to be originally taught by Lupin but Snape took over! We covered werewolves! And Malfoy sent you that paper dove that flew to you! Remember? I saw him blow the dove towards you, and Harry… the way he did it was rather… _gay_."

"What?!" _I saw him blow… you- Blow you-_

"His face was all tender and everything! And he did the _eyebrow_ thing after you opened the dove!" Hermione whispered furtively, her eyes wide with wonder. "Girls know that guys do the _eyebrow _thing only when they have a crush on them!"

_writing love letters during class-_

"You're mad, Hermione. Starking, raving, barking mad." Ron proclaimed crossly, a note of finality in his exclamation.

"Oh, Harry, you can choose not to believe me, but it's just what I think," Hermione concluded. "But you know that I'm almost always right," Hermione huffed sternly, before opening up her own book and beginning to read.

Harry sighed, but he felt that Hermione's explanation did make things a bit clearer. He resolutely forced himself to turn his back on Malfoy so that the other boy couldn't stare _or is it because you don't want to stare at him, Harry_- at him. His thoughts were jumbled up, like a mess of jigsaw puzzles that seemed to fit, but yet didn't… A small part of him felt that he had reached Hermione's theory days ago, but Harry just refused to believe it. However, when Hermione said it out loud…

He slowly shifted his body to his original position and bit his lip before shyly lifting his gaze _hoping against hope_- up to Draco. Harry couldn't help but feel something tug at his heart when he saw Draco gazing unabashedly at him.

* * *

_Today, I saw Harry, Granger and the Weasel talking about me publicly._

_It's time I moved my carefully orchestrated plan onto Phase 2. In a week's time, I'll know for sure, if the past month was a complete waste of time or not._

_But I have a feeling that I've managed to burrow deep down into his sweet, soft skin._

* * *

But, as suddenly as the stalking had started, it had screeched surprisingly to a halt. Harry no longer saw Malfoy wherever he turned or lurking at every corner. Harry thought he'd feel relieved, but oddly, he didn't. He suddenly felt like something was missing from him, that something didn't feel right when Malfoy wasn't doggedly trailing his steps. He still continued to lose sleep every night and also failed to concentrate during lessons, his thoughts helplessly straying over to Malfoy.

* * *

It had been a week since Malfoy had stopped following him. Harry shook his head, clearing his mind of thoughts about the blond. Dumping his book bag on the table, he fished out his Advanced Transfiguration textbook, quill and ink well, making sure his wand was safely ensconced in his bag.

The class of Gryffindors were starting their Transfiguration class with theory, and then proceeding over to practical wand-waving after that. His hazy eyes scanned paragraph after paragraph in the book, but he jerked upright as he saw Draco's name in the print. Rubbing his weary eyes, he blinked furiously before looking back at the sentence._ Dragons_. He swore under his breath after realizing that he had foolishly mistaken the word 'dragons' for Draco's name.

Slowly, he laid his head on his arm, _so tired, spent half of last night wondering about Malfoy_- tuning out McGonagall's lecture…

Suddenly, he felt someone poke him hard in the ribs. He started; his eyes _can't nap during McGonagall's classes_- wide alert. He woke up just in time to see Draco Malfoy strolling into the class as if he belonged there. Swiftly taking in the seating arrangement of the students, his eyes landed on Harry, and his lips curled up in an insolent smirk.

Striding easily over to the table directly behind the trio's, he pulled out a chair and lowered himself on it, ignoring the stares and whispers travelling around the class like wildfire. He straightened up, placed his right ankle on his bent left knee, crossed his arms casually and tilted his head superciliously.

"Mr Malfoy! What are you doing here? Your Tranfiguration class is not until after lunch!" Professor McGonagall barked, her shrewd eyes narrowing.

Draco shrugged easily, scrutinizing the pale crescents on his nails before answering, "I currently have a free period. Besides, I want to brush up on my Transfiguration. I _promise_ I'll be quiet," Draco reassured smoothly, a confident smile pasted across his face.

Professor McGonagall pursed her lips before warning sternly, "Fine. No disruptions at all. If there are any, you'll be out on the count of three."

Draco nodded, but his eyes were already on Harry. Catching hold of Harry's astonished stare, he wiggled his eyebrows _Harry! The eyebrow_ _thing!_ and gazed back at him. Draco grinned inwardly to himself, as he flicked the tip of his tongue out and languidly ran it over the bottom of his upper teeth. Harry's eyes widened, but the brunette made no move to tear his eyes away from Draco's tongue.

Ron caught sight of this exchange, and he roughly nudged Harry. "Shove off, Malfoy," Ron muttered under his breath, before turning his own back to the Slytherin.

After five minutes later, Ron got increasingly irritated with both Harry and Malfoy. Harry kept patting his hair self-consciously, trying to flatten his shock of black hair, resulting in him fidgeting a lot. Ron looked over to Harry's textbook; he was obviously not concentrating, he wasn't even on the correct page! Ron turned over to Malfoy, whose dark grey eyes were practically burning a hole through Harry's neck; what with the amount of ogling and _leering_ he was doing.

"That's _enough_, Malfoy! What're you playing at, following Harry around for the last few weeks and now stepping into our classes and pretending like you belong here! Hermione's already told us what you're planning to do, you sneaky Slytherin _bastard_, and I'll be happy to tell you that Harry is not interested, and will never be interested in you!" Ron shouted, his large, beefy hands already grabbing the front of Draco's robes.

"Mr. Weasley! Language!" Professor McGonagall shrieked, rushing forward in their direction. "Unhand Mr. Malfoy this instant! I will not tolerate this sort of behavior from you!

Ron immediately released his grip on Draco. Draco sneered maliciously at Ron and dusted his robes off. "Pray tell me, Weasley, what is Granger's take on what I have been doing?"

"She's saying that you're following him around because you're… attracted to him! And I can repeat it again if you haven't heard it the first time, Malfoy, that Harry will _never_ be interested in you!"

"Well, well, well," Draco remarked quietly, slinking over to Hermione Granger, who was staring defiantly up at Draco's hard, inscrutable face.

"Mr. Malfoy, there will be no name-calling in this class!"

Draco turned and nodded yet again to acknowledge Professor McGonagall, and returned his gaze to Hermione, who was glaring at Draco so hard that her eyes were starting to water.

"It seems that you're smarter than I give you credit for, Granger," Draco whispered, his soft voice washing over Hermione. Immediately he shifted his body so that he stood directly in front of Harry. Bending down so that Harry could see deeply into his amused grey eyes, Draco moved closer to Harry, so close that Harry could feel his hot breath ghosting seductively _the sweetest drug ever_- over his cheek.

"Weasley says that you will never be interested in me. But never is a _promise_, Harry, and everyone knows promises can always be _broken_," Draco breathed, and Harry felt a frisson of excitement course through his body when Draco purred _Harrrry-_ his name.

With that, Draco swiftly straightened up, threw an eminent look at the thunderstruck class and inclined his head politely towards Professor McGonagall, before sweeping out of the class, his black robes billowing dramatically out after him.

Harry sat there, frozen.

_"…interested in me… promises broken… attracted to him-"_

"Hey! Malfoy! _Hey_! Stop!" Harry shouted sharply, shoving his table aside. He started to break into a desperate run towards the blond, ignoring Ron's cries of protest.

"Mr. Potter! Why, this is highly impertinent, you running out of my class-"

But Harry could care less about Transfiguration and about McGonagall's temper, he knew that this was the only time that he could corner Malfoy and get a straight answer once and for all.

"Why… why have you have you been following me around?!"

"Have I, Potter? I didn't realize that I had. Or maybe it's just your … _overactive_ imagination?" Draco whispered delicately, raising his eyebrows questioningly. The way Draco said this made Harry blush._ It's like he knows about my dreams-_

"Yeah you definitely have been stalking me!" Harry suddenly blurted.

Draco looked around perfunctorily at the slowly, but surely gathering crowd around them, and also at the Gryffindors who had poked their heads out the doors to look at the spectacle. "It seems that you like crowds, choosing to confront me about this tricky subject right in the middle of the corridor. Attention _whore_," Draco whispered, his voice dropping an octave lower. "Too bad no one knows that you're _my_ attention whore."

Harry's eyes widened.

With that, Draco grabbed the front of Harry's robes tightly, and began to manhandle Harry, dragging him further down the corridor, before turning sharply into a dark, abandoned corner. Draco roughly slammed Harry against the wall, before swiftly placing his own hands on both sides of Harry's head, preventing any escape.

Taking in Harry's flustered look and his eyes, which darted everywhere and refused to look at Draco's face, Draco grinned slyly to himself.

"Your friends all think I'm a big, bad wolf, don't they? They think that I've hatched some dastardly, evil plan to get into your mind, hmmm?

Harry obstinately stared at the opposing wall behind Draco, not answering, but he felt his traitorous body angling nearer and nearer towards the blond, and a tell-tale tightening of his trousers.

Draco smirked at Harry's silence, his half-lidded eyes lazily _watching every inch of my body, like you wanted to play_- travelling up and down Harry's body.

"Cat got your tongue, Potter? Too bad, I'd rather your tongue wrapped around something more…" Draco whispered alluringly, filling Harry's mind with filthy scenes of his tongue wrapped around Draco's _cock_-

Draco continued languidly, his cool grey eyes never wavering from Harry's flushed, strawberry-red lips. "I've got my sights set on you, Potter. You might not know it, but we've marked each other ever since that day during first year when you didn't accept my hand of friendship. You were mine to hate, mine to tease, mine to dislike, mine to jeer at. But now, finally, you're mine to _love_."

With each pause, Harry felt Draco's body, pulsating with waves of gentle heat, move an inch closer. He let his breath out in a hiss and closed his eyes subversively, willing Draco to come nearer so that he could feel him. Draco's lips were hovering tantalizingly near his neck, and Harry gritted his teeth desperately, hoping that Draco would do something, _anything_, as long as bare skin touched _bare skin_. But Draco didn't move at all; he didn't do anything to close up _two bodies synchronizing, don't even need to touch me_- the miniscule amount of distance between them.

Harry couldn't help but let out a soft whine of _dirty, obscene_ need. "Stop doing this to me, Draco…" he whispered as he tilted his face, exposing his neck_ for you to_ _bite suck lick fuck taste love_ even further.

Suddenly, Harry moaned, feeling Draco's leg part his thighs and Draco's knee brushing teasingly against his erection.

"Tomorrow night at eleven. At the classroom beside the one-eyed witch." Harry heard Draco's words come out in jerky gasps, and it was then that Harry knew that Draco was as turned on as he was.

"Wait!" Harry cried out, a small part of him missing the warmth of Draco's body as Draco retreated and turned away from Harry.

"Do I- Do I come alone?" Harry blurted anything, _anything just to keep Draco from going_-, but he immediately kicked himself for asking that stupid question.

"You can bring your friends if you want, Potter, but I highly doubt that you would want them to be present when I stick my _tongue_ down your _throat_." Draco drawled, with a small, devious smile on his face before leaving Harry there, his swift footsteps clip-clopping on the cold stone floor and fading away.

_tongue down your throat, wrapped around your cock-_

Harry felt his legs crumple helplessly and he slumped to the ground, intoxicated. His heart was beating maniacally like a drum, blood pumping loudly in his ears, but his mind was full of the things that they would be doing at _tomorrow night, eleven. _

* * *

A/N: Second and final chapter almost done, will be posted up in roughly a week's time.


	2. Caught

**A/N: Hopefully I don't get kicked out of for "too much sexual content" in this. Already edited quite a bit of my work to tone down the sexual things. I will frankly stab myself if this gets me banned from this site. **

* * *

His wrists were bound tightly with green ties streaked with silver, but not so tight that it hurt. The room was dark except for the flame from a flickering candle beside the bed and the cracks of lightning that pierced the night sky above. The curtains were buffeted wildly by the wind and rain that escaped through the minuscule slits of the windows.

Harry struggled against the ties, and his green eyes, which seemed brighter in the darkness, pleaded with the other boy. A bowl of cherries sat placidly on Harry's chest and Draco was running a finger slowly around the rim of the bowl, his half-lidded eyes sliding over Harry's desperate expression. Snaking a knee between Harry's thighs lazily, Draco's mouth split into a wider grin as Harry let out a sexy little moan.

"Please, _please,_ don't make me wait like this…"

"It's just four more. Four more, and then we'll do whatever you want," Draco tempted Harry, his wrist flicking back to the bowl and plucking a cherry out. With his fingers pinched around the stalk of the cherry, Draco lifted the plump, ripe, red fruit over his lips and let the cherry trace the outline of his lips. Harry growled and looked away, a tiny part of him not liking how Draco was toying with him.

"If you look away, I won't eat it," Draco warned, wagging a finger admonishingly before placing his hand under the nape of Harry's neck and gently turning the brunette's head back to him.

"Hurry up, _please_!" Harry begged, his eyes travelling hungrily over Draco's slim and svelte body, half-covered and naked under the blankets.

Draco pouted, before catching the cherry between his teeth and dislodging it neatly from the stalk. Draco fished out another cherry and dangled it near Harry's lips. Harry jerked his head up and ferociously yanked it off, leaving some torn cherry hanging from the stalk. Draco extracted the second last cherry from the container, his eyes burning fervently into Harry's dilated pupils.

Harry fought fruitlessly against his restraints, his erection was beginning to _hurt._

"Oh, you poor baby," Draco whispered, and he let the corners of his lips curl up into a smirk as he extended a hand and swept the last remaining cherry and the bowl off Harry's chest. Without another word, he yanked the blankets off the bed, slid his body directly on top of Harry, immediately stilling the brunette. Harry let out a strangled moan, feeling their hips _and everything in between- _brushing against each other.

His thirsty green eyes found Draco's impatient ones and he pointed his chin urgently at the ties. Draco didn't answer, but buried his face at the crook of Harry's neck, sinking his teeth into the soft flesh. Harry cried out, but his yelps diminished to soft whimpers as he felt Draco's hands frantically untying the knots on the ties. Ripping the ties away, Harry flexed his fingers and turned his wrists, as though testing his strength. Satisfied, the Gryffindor slipped a hand under Draco's hip and swiftly flipped the other boy over, pinning him down and shifting his own body so that Harry was on top of Draco.

Harry reached over and blew the candle, extinguishing it. The room was now plunged into total darkness, except for the illumination from the random bolts of bright light that sliced the velvety, stormy sky in half. The wind whistled mercilessly against the crevices of the windows, but the both of them were too engrossed in each other to notice.

A spark of lightning brightened the room for a split second. Draco's mercury-colored hair shone in the radiant light, and his grey orbs were staring defiantly up at the other boy who was holding him down remorselessly. Harry's fingers were clasped tightly around Draco's slim wrists, and the blond moaned erotically when Harry brought a pale wrist to his lips and flicked his tongue _pink, wet tongue on a silver dagger-_ teasingly against the skin _arteries throbbing with sex and love_, before Harry let his tongue map Draco's pulse slowly, trailing from his wrist to the crook of his elbow. The brunette paused there for a while, lapping contentedly at the tiny strip of blue vein pumping anxiously with sexual tension.

Harry lifted sly eyes up to Draco's flushed face. His head gently bobbed up to Draco's shoulder, tongue never leaving the Slytherin's skin. Finally stopping at Draco's hard collarbone, Harry slid his tongue from left to right in a hypnotizing manner. Draco whimpered helplessly, but his whine escalated into a sharp cry when he felt Harry bite hard on the thin ribbon of flesh on top of his collarbone.

Harry jerked his head up and cocked his head, withdrawing his tongue into his hot mouth. The brunette didn't move a muscle; he just continued to gaze unabashedly at the blond.

"So now what?" Draco breathed vehemently, and Harry could detect a tiny note of wariness and urgency in his voice.

"And now…" Harry hissed _knew you were too impatient to wait-_ back swiftly, his hot hand sliding down Draco's feminine curves, "_we fuck."_

* * *

_And now, we fuck._ Harry cried out, feeling his wet dream suddenly dissipate.

_Oh, shit-_ Sitting up in bed, Harry rubbed his bleary eyes with one hand and reached for his wand, breathing a sigh of resignation as he cautiously whispered a spell, cleaning himself up. Fumbling for his drawers, he pulled out the Marauder's Map and tapped it with his wand. His eyes raced over the yellow, wrinkled map for Draco's name. The blond was in the Slytherin dungeons _do you think he sleeps naked or only wearing underwear or clothed_- Harry gasped in shock as that fleeting thought ran through his mind. Harry felt his cheeks color shamelessly and his cock harden again. Shaking his head, he let a small smile grace his lips, his fingernail tracing Draco's name on the map slowly.

Harry tapped his wand again, and folded the map up before replacing it in his drawer. Slumping back into bed and pulling the blankets up _remember how Draco ripped the covers off in your dream hmmm-_ Harry settled back into a deep, dreamless sleep.

* * *

It was after dinner the next day when Harry and Ron trampled up back to the dorms. Ron was rubbing his full stomach, extremely satisfied with tonight's meal. However, Harry's mind was occupied with other things, namely Draco and eleven o'clock. Harry blushed, fantasizing about Draco's lips and _tongue_.

"What's up with you, mate? Your face's all red," Ron exclaimed, squinting at Harry's flushed features.

"Oh! It's er, nothing, really. The weather's really hot, don't you think? I think I'll go grab a bath now!" Harry babbled, rushing to his trunk, frantically digging for another fresh set of clothes and yanking his still-damp towel roughly off the peg.

"What?! You just bathed before dinner, barely two hours ago!" Ignoring Ron's queries, Harry rapidly fled to the bathroom, holding his billowing towel tightly at his front to cover his erection.

* * *

Harry didn't know what to wear. Should he wear his black, green which _sets the color of his eyes off so magnificently_ or the red? Should he bother to tame his hair or not? Would Draco like him better in jeans or pants? Well, the jeans really _did _show off the shape of his legs…

Most importantly:

Should he wear underwear?

Turning his body at an angle, he winced as he realized that the pants that he was wearing made his arse look big. Sighing sadly at his lack of well-fitting clothes, he turned his attention to the pairs of underwear lain out on his bed. Boxers? Briefs? Was red too _in-your-face_? Or did white mean that he was too _virginal_? Maybe Harry shouldn't be wearing underwear at all, since Draco was probably going to take it off anyway-

Harry wished that he would stop thinking like a slut.

"Ron, do you think I should wear underwear?" Harry asked absently, doing another swivel at the mirror to check his arse out. The minute the words left his lips, he clapped his palm over his mouth.

Ron slowly lifted up his eyes from _Quidditch Through The Ages_ and stared at Harry for a very long time without blinking.

"Harry, please tell me that you didn't say what I think you just said," Ron managed to croak out.

"Uh-uh, no you didn't," Harry immediately replied, his head shaking vigorously.

"Good," Ron whispered, repressing a shudder at the thought of Harry with no underwear on.

Then arose the next question: What time should Harry reach the classroom? 10:50pm? 11pm on the dot? 11:01pm? 11:15pm?

Harry tore his hair out in frustration. If he reached early, it would seem to Draco that he was too desperate. If he reached 11pm on the dot, would Draco be there, or would he be late on purpose? 11:01pm didn't sound good either, what if Draco was a stickler for punctuality? 11:15pm or later would be worse, it would look like he didn't care.

Harry collapsed on the bed in an overwhelmed heap, his head spinning.

* * *

His eyes were glued to the ticking watch on his wrist. He reached the classroom two minutes ago and Harry had been waiting outside ever since. Taking a deep breath when the hand of the watch struck 11 sharp, he pushed the heavy wooden door open and stepped over the threshold.

The room was shrouded in darkness, and slivers of moonlight illuminated the depths of the room. The place smelled musty, and Harry could feel his nose twitching with the copious amounts of dust in the air. Creeping silently across the classroom, carefully avoiding the haphazardly placed tables and chairs, he stealthily approached the lone figure standing behind the long, teacher's table, who was staring straight in the distance, as though expected someone to appear right in front of him.

He slid the Invisibility Cloak off him and stood face to face with Draco Malfoy. The blond was dressed simply in a tight black shirt, an elegant silver metal bracelet was dangling on his right wrist, reflecting the moonlight. He was clad in a pair of dark blue jeans slung low on his hips which showed off his shapely legs.

Harry wondered if Draco was wearing underwear.

Half of Draco's face was covered in pitch-black darkness, while the other half was plainly gazing at Harry, his eyes smoky and hazy. Harry shivered as he saw Draco's lips curl up into a small, sly, smile.

"What do you want with me, Malfoy?" Harry whispered, not daring to look at Draco while he spoke.

Draco casually shrugged his shoulders, tilting his face to one side, piercing Harry with his stare.

"Kiss me. If you kiss me and if you feel nothing, then it would mean that my past month was just a waste of time and I'll leave you alone. However, if you kiss me, and if you feel something, then… we'll take it from there."

Draco had leant forward so that his fingertips were splayed on his side of the teacher's table, an eyebrow raised craftily and his slim wrists arched. Harry paused, and then he began to move closer to Draco, his hands gripping the edges of the same table. From opposing directions, both boys moved their heads nearer and nearer to each other.

The kiss was clumsy; their front teeth accidentally banged together and their noses nudged. Both boys immediately withdrew and froze for a split second.

"Scared, _Potter_?"

"You _wish_."

Harry narrowed his eyes before plunging his head forward again, and their lips met yet again, but this time, their faces were tilted in the opposite directions. Harry let his eyes close, feeling Draco's probing tongue trace the shape of his mouth. He immediately parted his lips, and Draco eagerly slid his hot, wet tongue in.

Harry raised a hand to caress Draco's neck _teeth sinking in flesh-_ He moaned, feeling Draco's tongue exploring his mouth, and as though Draco's tongue was like a serpent secreting a poisonous aphrodisiac, Harry's eyes flew open.

They were still kissing over the table, and the only desire in Harry's mind was to close the distance, unlike what Draco did yesterday. Breaking away from the kiss, earning a hiss of disappointment from the other boy, Harry hauled himself up the table and vaulted over to Draco's side, sitting on the table right in front of an astonished Draco. Spreading his legs sluttily, Harry used his calves to grip the back of Draco's thighs, pulling the blond closer. Carding his fingers through Draco's hair _as soft as spun gold-,_ Harry forcefully yanked Draco's head closer, capturing his lips again in a hungry kiss.

Their hot wet tongues mingled desperately, each vying for dominance. Finally, Draco succumbed, whimpering with satisfaction as Harry's greedy tongue ran over the bottom of Draco's upper teeth and flicked teasingly _making out at its best-_ at the fleshy part of Draco's bottom lip. The blond snapped his head away and his dark grey eyes, wide with lust and sex, registered Harry's swollen and plump lips.

Growling at nothing in particular, his mouth descended swiftly on Harry's neck. Opening his jaws _not unlike how a serpent catches its prey- _wide, he caught a thin strip of flesh between his teeth and nibbled and sucked gently.

Harry moaned and thrust his hips up at Draco. _"Harder!"_

Draco eagerly increased the pressure and the frequency of the licking, his tongue going in dizzying circles on Harry's neck. The brunette was breathing heavily; he could feel his erection straining against his jeans, and he threw his head back in wild abandon, letting Draco nibble more of his flesh.

Harry's fingers were scrabbling desperately at the hem of Draco's shirt, tugging them up urgently. Draco broke off and tore his own shirt off before bending down again and nipping teasingly at the _other _side of Harry's neck. Harry groaned_ fuck he's marking me, oh yeah_-as he caught sight of Draco's teeth gleaming dangerously _like a dagger sharpened to kill- _in the moonlight. Harry let the tips of his fingers trail slowly up and down the expanse of Draco's nude back, before venomously sinking his fingernails into the soft flesh. His fingers curved into claws, and Harry grinned to himself evilly as he scratched Draco's back mercilessly, and he could almost feel his fingers leaving angry red grooves on Draco's pale and smooth skin.

_-'cause if it's not rough it isn't fun-_

Draco howled in pain, jerking his head away from Harry. His eyes flashing possessively, Draco snarled as he pushed Harry back across the width of the table. Harry couldn't help but let out a helpless squeak, feeling his whole upper body thwack on the hard surface of the table, his head dangling from the rounded edge of wood. He tried to sit up, to see what Draco was doing, but the other boy was pressing a strong hand onto Harry's chest, preventing his body from moving.

Harry clenched his fists hopelessly while his green eyes swiveled madly around the room, but all he saw were the scattered tables and chairs in the classroom; now upside-down in his sight since his head was hanging from the table. He felt his hair flop uselessly on their ends as he turned his head from side to side questioningly.

He was about to shout at Malfoy and demand to know what game he was playing when he felt hot, lithe fingers swiftly unbutton _if you can handle it, undress me-_ his shirt. Harry moaned in anticipation, biting his lip in excitement. Finally, his shirt was spread open, and he heard Draco let out a husky gasp. Harry wriggled his body enticingly, waiting for Draco to touch him. He didn't care where; he didn't care how he touched him, as long as Harry got touched _now_.

Harry gasped as he felt a single, thin finger land on the top of his neck and trail down to his exposed throat, down his Adam's apple all the way down to his navel in a perfectly straight line. It was as if Harry's body was made of fudge, and Draco's finger was a source of intense heat; the brunette felt like he was melting and crumbling under the blond's touch. Harry writhed promisingly, mentally willing the finger to continue its descent down between his legs while the other hand preferably undid _I touch myself when I think of you-_ his zipper.

However, the finger stopped infuriatingly at the top of his jeans.

"Harry. You're not wearing any underwear."

The Gryffindor let out a hot breath of impatience. "Yes, I'm not."

"You _fucking_ slut."

"_Your_ slut, now shut the _fuck _up, get the both of us naked, and start_ fucking_ me before I_ come_ all by myself."

Harry couldn't believe that he had just said that. His face burning with shame and embarrassment, he turned his face to the left and stared at a forlorn table that was pushed alone to a corner.

Draco threaded his fingers through his own hair and agilely climbed onto the table, pressing his body gently against Harry's. Holding Harry's flushed face between both his palms as though Harry was a fragile ice sculpture, he leant forward, letting his head dangle _beautiful alabaster hair falling over- _slightly, and kissed Harry sweetly _as sweet as dessert-_ right on the lips.

The kiss took Harry's breath away; it was so unlike the demanding, furious, urgent kisses that they had shared just minutes ago. This one reminded Harry of sunshine and bunnies and rainbows and everything that was _happy_. Their noses bumped slightly, but Harry could feel the smile on Draco's lips. The kiss was chaste; it was like one of those first kisses that a shy couple would exchange on their first date. Harry felt his knees go weak and his stomach churn, but not in an unpleasant way. A small bubble of happiness trickled in his belly, and began to rise all the way up…

Harry didn't know how long they stayed like that, Draco on top of him and kissing him in that way, but the only thing the brunette knew that he didn't want it to stop because he felt his troubles _melt away like lemon drops-_

Draco paused, lifting his lips away from Harry's. The Slytherin saw Harry's eyes flutter open confusedly, and he planted a single kiss on Harry's nose before hauling himself off the brunette. Reaching for his shirt, Draco beat the dust out of it before slipping it over his head in a smooth, fluid stroke.

Harry blinked and sat up, confusion and anger boiling within him.

"What the fuck? What was that all about?!" Harry demanded, his furious green eyes glaring at Draco. In reply, Draco simply walked over and began to button up Harry's shirt for him. Harry angrily batted his hands away.

"Is this some joke that you and your friends came up with? Make Harry Potter go mad over you, seduce him in a dirty, old classroom and then wait until he practically has to _beg_ for you to fuck him? Bet it was an ego-booster, wasn't it, Malfoy? Guess you took some pictures too, huh, so the bunch of you can laugh over how _hot_ I was for you. Maybe even sell those photos to the _Daily Prophet_, eh?" Harry snarled, pushing the other boy away roughly. His feet hit the ground, and he was just about to walk away when a hand darted out and grabbed his wrist. Draco twirled Harry back into his arms, and Harry was so close to Draco that he could see the flecks of black in Draco's grey eyes.

"If I really did fuck you tonight, it'll just be a one-night stand. We'll fuck, and then you'll wake up in the morning tomorrow regretting it! I… I don't want it to be like that because this is different, Harry. Didn't you feel it, that very last kiss? And besides, this bloody room is _filthy_. There's no way I would make love to you in something as unromantic and un-_classy _as this."

Harry couldn't help but feel his heart beat just a _bit_ faster when Draco murmured the words 'make love'.

"You… you drive me _wild_, Harry. The way you try to flatten your hair, when I know that you don't have to do because you're just _perfect _like that. The way you always tear the sides off the bread before you eat it during breakfast every day. The way you always wait for four minutes for your cornflakes to soften in your milk before eating it. The way you fly, it's like _magic._ The way you make me smile like the sun, the way you make me forget to breathe, the way you make my head spin when you look at me with those beautiful green eyes. Don't you understand, Harry? I'm… I'm in _love_ with you." _grey eyes stare unblinkingly on the ground, __laying down my cards, letting my guard down-_-

Harry gulped, a small fibre of his being wanting truly to believe what Draco had just said. He cleared his throat nervously, and his question came out in a pathetic croak.

"So you planned all of this? From the beginning, when you started to follow me around?"

"Yeah. It was the best way to find out whether we could work out. I couldn't just owl you and declare my feelings to you, you'd probably ask me to go jump in a lake. So before I executed my plan I spent around a month just keeping track of your timetable, knowing where you and your friends go during the weekend and the like. I didn't sleep much; I had to wake up earlier than usual to follow you around when you had morning classes, I had to stay up late to finish up my schoolwork which I couldn't do during the day. And, you know," Draco trailed off, waving his hand in a vague gesture. The blond took a deep breath before continuing.

"I've told you everything that I have to say. If- if you think that there's completely no chance for the both of us…" Draco immediately stepped away from Harry and gestured to the door, but Harry didn't miss the fleeting flash of sadness in those grey eyes.

Harry let his mind wander back to the kiss, that cloying, saccharine kiss that made his toes curl and his heart sing like a bird. He stared at the Slytherin, and remembered that Draco hadn't insulted his friends for such a long time, and how Draco looked like he needed sleep _because of me._ _Maybe, just maybe-_ Smiling shyly at Draco, he took a step forward and covered Draco's hand with his own.

Draco's mouth split into a rare, genuine smile as he wrapped his arms around Harry and hugged him tightly, squeezing the breath out of the other boy. Dropping light kisses along Harry's jawline, Draco started to speak, but his voice wasn't the clear, haughty tone that Harry had grown accustomed to all these years. It was soft, a bit muffled and maybe even… shy.

"We've got a Hogsmeade visit available next weekend. Would you- would you like to come with me?"

"Malfoy, are you asking me out on a date?!"

"No, _Malfoy_ isn't, _Draco _is asking you out on a date," Draco scowled, his voice as cold as steel, and for a split second, Harry could see a flash of the old Draco in those eyes.

"I'll have to check with Ron and Hermione. You know I always go to Hogsmeade with them."

"Oh. But- but I'll really like it if you could come with me," The blond bit his lip and lowered his gaze, stroking Harry's palm tenderly.

"Yeah. I'd- I'd like it a lot too," Harry replied. A silence ensued as both boys stared stupidly and goofily at each other, their eyes glazed over with affection. Suddenly, Draco spoke, breaking the quiet.

"Come. It's late. You've got early classes tomorrow. I'll send you back to Gryffindor Tower." With that, the blond laced his fingers through Harry's and gently tugged him towards the door.

"I don't need you to send me back, Draco!" Harry laughed, but his laughter died down when Draco locked eyes with Harry seriously, brought Harry's hand up to his pale lips and brushed his lips gently across Harry's skin.

* * *

"Take it. I… I don't want you to get caught," Harry said as he shoved the Invisibility Cloak into Draco's arms. Draco gave Harry a small, precious smile before accepting the Cloak gratefully.

"Well, I guess that's it," Harry murmured bashfully, turning to walk towards the Gryffindor portrait hole.

"Wait," Draco whispered and stepped neatly in front of Harry. He swept a few tendrils of black hair away from Harry's forehead and planted a dainty kiss at the side of the brunette's temple. Harry's eyes widened and he blushed furiously, flashing a shy grin at Draco and hurried up the steps to The Fat Lady.

The Slytherin waited until Harry vanished completely behind the portrait before he turned away, his foot-steps echoing softly along the corridors.

Anyone who knew Draco Malfoy would know that the blond sharpened his tongue everyday in front of the mirror, arming himself with a volley of insults and sneers that he could use at his fingertips if anyone dared to pit themselves against him in a battle of verbal wit. In other words, Draco was a cold, unfeeling, domineering bastard who reveled in intimidating people that he didn't like.

However, tonight was an exception. Anyone who saw Draco tonight on his way back to the Slytherin dungeons would rub their eyes and stare, for they knew that this blond boy, who was skipping away merrily and humming a victory tune under his breath, could not possibly be the Draco Malfoy, bully _extraordinaire_.

* * *

"Bloody _hell_, Harry, you got laid!" Ron Weasley spluttered the next day during breakfast in the Great Hall, simultaneously spraying lumps of half-chewed bread all over Harry and Hermione's plate.

Harry looked up in alarm, and followed Ron's wide-eyed gaze to the bright red hickeys on the both sides of his neck. Flushing right to the roots of his hair, Harry quickly folded the collar of his robes up, trying as much as possible to hide the marks. "It's nothing, Ron, just uhm, banged my neck on the mirror today," Harry explained feebly, wincing at the ridiculousness of the lie.

"No way, Harry! Tell me, who's the girl?!" Ron grinned, nudging Harry on the arm chummily. "Bet it was good, eh!"

Harry let out an audible gulp, refusing to meet Ron's eyes and continued shoveling copious amounts of cornflakes in his mouth, hoping that Ron would drop the subject. Hermione frowned, her shrewd eyes having noticed the furtive glances that Harry had shot towards the Slytherin table before Ron had posed his question. Hermione looked at Harry, who was currently steadfastly staring at his plate, ignoring Ron's questioning blinks. The bushy-haired girl furrowed her brow, and looked over to the Slytherin table. Draco Malfoy was drinking from his goblet, but his cool, grey eyes were gazing unblinkingly at Harry over the top of his chalice. Hermione noticed that the other Slytherins, even Crabbe and Goyle, were still giving Malfoy a wide berth, not talking to him at all.

"Harry… It's Malfoy, isn't it?" Hermione guessed, a resigned note in her question.

Harry promptly choked on his cornflakes.

"Hermione! Why'd you go and say that for! You've given poor Harry a dreadful shock! Malfoy, yeah right!" Ron chortled, reaching over and banging Harry heartily on the back.

"Ron," Hermione started irritably, "He's choking because it's true! Isn't it, Harry?" Hermione's soft, concerned brown eyes scanned Harry's face. "Please don't lie to us. If it's true, you know that you'll have to tell us sooner or later."

_-the way you always tear the sides off the bread before you eat it-_

Harry swallowed nervously, ignoring Ron's look of pure horror on his face, lowered his gaze and mumbled to Hermione quietly, "Yeah… I'm with him now."

_-the way you make me smile like the sun-_

Ron's mouth was opening and closing helplessly like a goldfish gulping for air desperately, and his eyes travelled from Harry's guilty face to Hermione's comforting one. "I was expecting something like this. Remember that day when I told you my suspicions? Well, I think I know what I have to do now…" With that, Hermione slid off her seat gracefully, only hesitating for a fraction of a second, and began to walk calmly over to the direction of the Slytherin table, her fists clenching and unclenching.

_Relax, keep cool, just put one foot in front of the other,_ Hermione reassured, occupying her mind fully with these words of encouragement, trying not to think why exactly she was doing this. Her heart banged in anxiety in her rib-cage, and she was reminded of the first time she had stepped into Hogwarts and put the Sorting Hat on.

"Hermione!" Ron and Harry shouted. Harry gnawed his lip worriedly. _What's going on?! Is she, is she going to hit Draco?!_ Ron looked murderous, his usually warm eyes alight with fury.

"Why'd you have to go and play around with Malfoy for?! Bloody hell, they're going to rip her apart!"

Harry felt a hot spurt of anger rise up within him, not unlike what happened in fourth year, and he opened his mouth to argue, but Hermione had already stopped walking, her feet planted firmly in front of Draco.

Any vestige of surprise or horror did not register at all on Draco's face. He only waited silently, tilting his face to one side in question as though he was a king sitting imperiously on a throne, and as if Hermione was a plebian peasant, present only to give offerings. Hermione gulped, recalling the taunts _who blacked your eye, Granger? I want to send them flowers- If you're wondering what the smell is, Mother, a **Mudblood **just walked in-_

But Draco just sat there passively, his attention focused on nothing but Hermione. _Well, if he was going to insult me he would have done it already-_ Hermione reassured herself, cleared her throat, and said loudly and clearly, "Hermione Granger," and promptly offered her hand to Draco to shake.

Back at the Gryffindor table, Ron buried his face in his hands despairingly, all thought of food long forgotten. Harry stared at the scene unfurling at the Slytherin table, not daring to blink.

Draco's old gang, consisting of Crabbe, Goyle, Pansy and Blaise slithered menacingly towards Draco, eyes narrowed maliciously at Hermione. Crabbe and Goyle glared at Hermione, cracking their knuckles ominously. Hermione grimaced, but kept her hand proffered, the fingers on her other hand worrying a stray strand of loose thread at her robe.

"Well, well, what do we have here? A brave, foolish, pathetic Mudblood-" Pansy started, a sneer forming on her face, but she trailed off in horror when Draco stood up _as equals_, inclined his head gracefully, and shook Hermione's hand formally across the breakfast table, murmuring his own name quietly. His cool grey eyes appraised the shell-shocked Hermione, giving her hand _anything for you, Harry-_ a small squeeze before withdrawing his arm and sitting down again.

Hermione stood there as though she was a statue _I guess you must really like him then-_, blinking slowly at Draco before turning the corners of her lips up in a minuscule smile. Suddenly, she jumped, letting out a cry of a surprise as Draco's hand, which was hovering limply around his fork, suddenly shot forward as quick as a cobra, pinning Pansy's hand under his own.

"Don't attempt such foolish things right under my nose, Pansy. You look like a harpy," Draco admonished coolly, his eyes chips of hard, unforgiving steel. Pansy snarled furiously at Draco, her fingers an inch away from her goblet of orange juice.

"But Granger's robes would look so much more… decent with a splash of orange," Pansy wheedled, her sentence escalating to a small cry as Draco increased the pressure on her hand. Blaise narrowed his eyes angrily at Draco, tucked his hand under Pansy's wrist and whisked her hand roughly away from Draco's pincer-like grasp.

"Blood _traitor_, and it's so much more worse because you're in _Slytherin_," Blaise hissed malevolently. "First, it was that Potter. Now it's the Mudblood. You going to fuck every damned Gryffindor in Hogwarts, _pillow-biter_?"

Pansy just had enough time to dodge as Draco's fist darted forth like a whip and made contact with Blaise's jaw, the blond smirking to himself as he felt something crack beneath his knuckles. Draco felt Crabbe and Goyle moving towards him, their knuckles still popping dangerously. He swiftly turned around, his alert, agile eyes staring warningly at their surprised, dull ones. "Don't you dare," Draco whispered. Both boys, who were so huge and strong that they could pick Draco up with one arm and throw him out of the Great Hall, seemed to wither and wilt under his icy gaze.

Straightening his robes casually, Draco threw a glance at the unconscious Blaise and the tearful Pansy who was leaning over him in worry. He turned his attention to an extremely aghast Hermione.

"I apologise that you had to see that horrific display of Slytherin pride. Anyway, as I have mentioned to Harry, would it be alright if I took him out to Hogsmeade next week?" Draco asked, his words dripping with excess politeness.

"Oh! Uhm, I guess that'll be fine," Hermione murmured, her mind still reeling from the barbaric scene. Taking a deep breath, she flashed Draco a tiny smile, before hitching up the hem of her robes and sprinting all the way back to the stunned Gryffindor table.

She sat down beside Harry, willing her wildly thumping heart to slow down.

"Well, I think that didn't go too bad," she remarked, picking up her spoon primly and scooping some scrambled eggs to her plate.

"How can you still eat?! You shook _Malfoy's_ hand! And _you_!" Ron's voice shook, glaring venomously at Harry, "You and _him_!" Ron exclaimed in horror as he moved away from Harry and Hermione as if they had the plague. He pushed away his half-empty plate, which was still littered with half-eaten sausages and buttered toast, fumbled for his books, stumbled out of his seat and ran out of the Hall, his heavy footsteps echoing forlornly.

* * *

The two boys were sitting on a gigantic rock which was embedded deeply in the ground, and in the horizon, they could see the Shrieking Shack. The sun wasn't scorching hot, nor was the wind bitingly cold. The sun's rays shone down gently on the both of them, and the silhouettes of the twigs and branches of the nearby trees which were blown softly in the breeze shifted and slid on their faces. Draco moved nearer to the brunette, the gravel crunching satisfyingly underneath his shoes.

Harry looked up bashfully, blinking his eyes underneath his curtain of dark fringe before smiling and sliding nearer to Draco. The blond beamed happily _because I won't share the day with anyone else-_ and placed the very tips of his fingers over Harry's, and began to slowly stroke Harry's smooth, pearly-pink nails.

They hadn't spoken a word to each other from the time they met that day and made their way to Hogsmeade. Draco led the way to this quiet spot, but not before they made a quick stop at The Three Broomsticks for a warm cup of hot chocolate to go. They had been sitting quietly together, enjoying each other's company for a while, but the atmosphere was beginning to turn slightly awkward. _What topics of everyday conversation would you attempt to engage with someone who had been your rival for years, but now had turned into your lover? _

Wanting to do anything to kill the silence _the clock's ticking but I don't mind_-, Harry nudged Draco with his elbow and impulsively lifted the hot chocolate in his direction. Draco grinned cheekily, before throwing his head back and parting his lips slightly. His playful grey eyes were dancing beneath his half-lidded eyelids. Harry blushed, getting the hint.

Reaching up, Harry rested the edge of the cup on Draco's pointed chin and began to slowly pour the beverage in Draco's waiting mouth, taking special care not to scald the blond's tongue. Slurping and smacking his lips in a satisfied manner, Draco suddenly grabbed Harry's waist and yanked the other boy unceremoniously towards himself.

_mine to love, mine for life- _

"I won't bite, Harry. Merlin, you seem to be so frightened of me," Draco remarked as he snaked a long arm around Harry's neck. Harry smiled shyly up at the other boy, before hesitantly nuzzling into Draco's chest, the tops of his messy raven locks tickling the underside of Draco's chin.

"Harry!"

Both boys jumped as a girl's voice rang out suddenly. Harry immediately jerked away from Draco's embrace as if Draco was on fire.

"Hermione!" Harry called out in reply, grinning madly and waving enthusiastically at the bushy-haired girl. Draco turned towards Hermione and inclined his head perfunctorily. Within a few seconds, the smile had slipped off Harry's face when he saw Ron grab Hermione's wrist roughly and drag her sharply away.

Harry sighed sadly, his face downcast as his grip on his drink tightened.

"Oh, Harry, he's just a stupid Weasley," Draco started, but trailed off as Harry threw him an exceptionally dirty look. Draco huffed petulantly, before crossing his arms across his chest and staring off in the distance.

Harry caught sight of Draco's displeased expression and placed his hand on Draco's stiff arm, quickly prying it loose and taking hold of Draco's hand.

"I'm sorry, it's just that this… this whole thing is so strange for me. It's like when you insult me and my friends, I don't know whether you really mean it or you're just kidding around. It's not easy for years of enmity to simply dissolve under a few days, Draco," Harry explained, sliding his fingers tenderly between Draco's own fingers.

Draco returned his gaze to Harry _you think you know me, but I guarantee there'll be a lot more to see-,_ and his expression seemed to soften.

"It's alright, I understand. I promise that I'll make you fall in love with me in no time," Draco said confidently, before sliding his arm around Harry's neck yet again and stroking the other boy's raven locks.

"Wait! What about your friends? Aren't they all ignoring you too?" Harry sat up straight, his teeth biting the inside of his cheek worriedly.

Draco snorted derisively and waved his hand in a vague gesture. "Don't worry about them, they'll come around eventually. If they don't, then it's not a problem. I've been alone before, it won't be a big deal."

"You won't be alone, because… because you have _me_," Harry said, his voice becoming quieter with every word, until the last word was almost inaudible. "But… but why did you choose to reveal your feelings to me now?"

Draco wrinkled his nose curiously and thought of his answer, picking his words carefully.

_"You're dead, Potter."_

_"Famous Harry Potter. Can't even go into a bookshop without making the front page."_

_"Careful, Potter, there's a Dementor behind you-"_

_"I do feel sorry for all those people who have to stay at Hogwarts for Christmas because they're not wanted at home."_

Draco planted a tender kiss on Harry's forehead and rested his chin lightly on the crown of Harry's head. Draco smiled as he felt Harry's arms wrap soothingly around him. Tucking a finger under Harry's chin and lifting his face up, he let his gaze linger into the other boy's mildly confused eyes before replying.

"Because… I didn't want to waste another moment saying things that I _never_ meant to say."

* * *

**/fin**


End file.
